


Life Is What Happens To You (When You're Busy Making Other Plans)

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Annoyed Draco Malfoy, Artist Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Babies, First Time Sex After Childbirth, Happy Ending, Harry/Draco Mpreg Fest 2020, Household Role Negotiation, Hungry Baby, Infatuated Harry, M/M, Magicked Reproductive System (Draco), Male Lactation, Mention of childbirth, Mpreg, Non-confident Draco, Panic Attacks, Panicky Harry Potter, Plans For The Future, Poor Contraceptive Choices, Post-pregnancy Draco, Relationship Discussions, Scared Draco Malfoy, Small Mention of Canon Dursley Child Neglect, Stay At Home Dad Draco, life with a newborn, reassuring harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 07:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23967517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: Draco and Harry are the overwhelmed, overjoyed parents of Jamie Potter-Malfoy, their beautiful six week old son. Their life is running exactly as both wizards had planned.But when a misunderstood old witches tale, a hormonal Draco and an infatuated Harry all combine to throw this blessed existence into disarray Draco finds himself devastated. Can he find his way back to happiness?Based on the prompt:It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 22
Kudos: 425
Collections: HD Mpreg 2020





	Life Is What Happens To You (When You're Busy Making Other Plans)

**Author's Note:**

> Just so **everyone** reading this fic is aware, you can get pregnant while you are breastfeeding. Yes, there is a reduction in your fertility but you have to be breastfeeding exclusively and your baby needs to be under six months old. Even then, two in one hundred couples breastfeeding exclusively will **still** become pregnant.  
> Information taken from: www.nhs.uk.
> 
> The title is a lyric from the 1981 John Lennon song _Beautiful Boy._

**Flirtatious husbands and ill-thought out decisions...**

Draco sighed happily, a small unconscious moan of pleasure leaving his mouth. He’d been craving ten minutes in the shower for most of the day, and now, stood under the hot pressure of the water, he was determined to enjoy every last moment. 

Before he’d gotten in, Draco had charmed the setting to an ideal not-quite scalding temperature, his shampoo was infused with a clever potion that de-knotted his hair and, best of all, he had a small bottle of _crème hydratante au citron_ that Mother had brought him back from Paris. When he stepped out of the cubicle, Draco hoped his skin would smell like the sharp scent of lemon, rather than the milky, musky aroma of milk and baby that had infused his skin since Jamie had been born, only six weeks before. 

As he ran a gentle, soapy hand over the soft planes of his belly he felt the delicate silvery stretch marks that decorated his skin, Draco found his thoughts flicking back to St. Mungo's. James Potter-Malfoy had been born in the early hours of the morning; squalling, purple and, quite simply, the most perfect sight that Draco had ever seen. 

Harry and he had been infatuated from the very first seconds of Jamie’s life. Now, just a month and a half later, that initial rush of love was every bit as strong as it had been on that first day. Draco couldn’t envision a life without his little family beside him. He still thanked Merlin every day for the blessing of his beautiful son. 

Still. All the love in the world didn’t mean the occasional ten minute shower break wasn’t a bit of a necessity. 

Ten minutes was all he wanted. Ten minutes where Draco could just relax. Ten minutes where he could begin, just a little, to feel like himself again. Ten minutes when he could wash spit-up milk out of his hair and the sheen of sweat from his skin. Ten tiny minutes where he could feel like the chic, smart wizard that he used to be, once upon a time, before nap times, nursing and nappies were all that filled his daily hours. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem that Jamie- or bloody Potter for that matter- had received that particular owl. 

After only five minutes in the shower, Draco was pulled from his pleasurable daydreams by a frantic, panic-stricken hammering on the door. Any normal wizard would have been perfectly terrified by the noise, but Draco was inured to Harry’s noisy, boisterous manners. His husband had all the subtlety of a two-tonne hippogriff. 

As quickly as he could, Draco shut off the shower and pushed open the cubicle door. He could see Potter stood directly behind the half-opened door, his normally affable face flushed red with with upset. Jamie was clasped tightly in his arms, screaming loudly enough to raise several Inferi from the dead. 

“Whatever has happened?” Draco asked, genuinely baffled at the sight of the two of them. “Jamie was sleeping _perfectly_ soundly a few moments ago-”

“Well, he isn’t _now_ ,”” Harry hissed in reply, his confident, booming voice tinged with a slight desperation. “Look, I know you’ve just got in but I need your help. Jamie’s hungry, love. Can you just… Look, I’m sorry. I can’t seem to get him to settle-” 

Draco could only shake his head. He didn’t trust himself enough to reply kindly in the moment so he kept his mouth shut while he spelled his body dry and _Evanesco’d_ the remaining shampoo suds out of his hair. 

_Ten bloody minutes_. Harry and Jamie weren't even going to allow him ten bloody minutes of feeling like an actual human being. 

With an audible snort of frustration, Draco pulled on his pyjama bottoms and knotted his hair up into a small black band. “You couldn’t get him to settle?” he asked, his voice nettlesome. He held out his arms for his son. “Give Jamie to me please. Precisely what, might I ask, did you try in the _five minutes_ that I was absent from your side?”

“I tried everything I could think of,” Harry replied, not seeming to take any offence at Draco’s barbed tone. He handed Jamie over readily and the three of them padded through to the Grimmauld Place master bedroom. “Sang him a couple of Celestina Warbeck songs but that just made him sob harder. I walked him around the room. Charmed his cot to rock gently… I even tried reasoning with our little goblin but none of it worked, Draco. He’s famished, love. You’re the only one with the goods to stop his tears.”

Draco settled himself and his baby onto the bed, sitting with his head against the headboard. Harry was absolutely correct of course. Their baby was clean, warm and he was wearing a fresh new nappy. There was only one thing that could possibly be causing their babe’s upset: hunger. 

Jamie was filled with the righteous fury of the empty-bellied baby. He was still wailing loudly, his eyes squeezed shut in distress and his little hands were balled into tight fists. 

Draco got his baby into a comfortable position before teasing and coaxing Jamie’s lips into taking his nipple. Jamie, stubborn little Malfoy that he was, continued to fight and fidget as he suckled. His little body was racked with tension so Draco stroked his back, holding him close. 

Skin-on-skin contact was usually guaranteed to relax Jamie and it did so once again, the sound of Draco’s heartbeat slowly lulling the baby to placidity. Draco rocked Jamie tenderly as he nursed, whispering endearments and making small noises of love. 

Very soon Draco felt the stress leave Jamie’s body entirely. His little body relaxed and his lips formed a far better seal around his nipple. “There you go,” Draco admired, looking down at his son. “Clever little wizard. You’re feeding properly now. Filling up that tiny tummy of yours.”

Draco felt his own body loosen up as well. Happy hormones flowed though him as Jamie nursed and the last tendrils of frustration spiralled away from his body. “He’s got a good latch now,” Draco said, turning his face to look in Harry’s direction, his prickliness towards his husband dissipating as quickly as it had arrived. The other wizard had come to sit on the bed beside Draco and Jamie and he looked at them both with wide, affectionate eyes. 

“He’ll be asleep before we know it. Maybe I’ll get that shower tomorrow,” Draco mused, yawning a little as he moved Jamie into a more cosy position in his arms. “I only wish that I’d worked harder on the _Scourgify_ charm at school. I’m bloody relying on it at the moment-”

“I’m sorry,” Harry cut in, his features open and honest. As Draco watched he made a gesture of helplessness with his arms. “I genuinely am, love. It’s just- Well, I just can’t listen to him cry, Draco… Not when I know what he needs. I’d have done anything to give you your ten minutes but-”

“But the idea of your child being upset is too much to bear. I understand, Harry, I genuinely do.” 

And Draco did. Draco didn’t know everything about those dammed Muggles that had raised his husband, but he knew enough. Harry refused to talk about the Dursleys much- said that he wasn’t that terrified child any more, and never would be again- but a childhood like that couldn’t help but leave some scars. 

Harry was hyper aware of any upset that his son might be suffering and couldn’t abide hearing him cry. Draco understood Harry’s motives completely but they were a source of extra pressure. Harry had yet to accept that a few tears wouldn’t do their child any harm. 

“And I’m sorry too,” Draco added. “I was arsey with you and you didn’t deserve it-”

“Draco, you don’t have to-” Harry interrupted, scratching the back of his wild bird’s nest of hair. 

“I _do_ have to say it,” Draco argued, shaking his head slightly. Draco thought his husband looked upset but he still needed to say his piece. Tiny resentments could grow big and ugly when left to fester. “If Jamie is upset then you need to get me. No questions asked. I truly don’t mind. But it’s just- It’s just that I’m with him here all day, love. You go to work, and you chase your Dark Wizards and have dinner with Ron and- Well. All I'm trying to say is that it’s hard, Harry. it’s hard. I’m here with him all day and I love him, genuinely I do, but it’s exhausting. My whole life has changed- Jamie is my _everything_ \- but you’ve still got the same existence that you had nine months ago.” 

This wasn’t the first time that the two wizards had shared some variation of this conversation over the previous six weeks and Draco highly doubted it would be the last. 

Pansy, a mother of two herself, had warned Draco how bloody long the days would be with a new baby but Draco hadn’t quite believed her. Now, three weeks after Harry’s paternity leave had finished, Draco had to admit to a grudging new respect for his best-friend. He didn’t know how she managed. 

Harry huffed out a slow puff of air. “That’s all so bloody unfair Draco,” he replied, furrowing his brow. “How do you think I feel? I miss you both desperately during the day. You’re here, getting having all this lovely time with our little goblin while I’m out there working my arse off-”

“I’m not saying that you’ve got it easier,” Draco snapped, cutting Harry off. “You must know that I’m proud of you, love. You work so hard for our family. I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to say that I want things to be different, Harry. I’m only trying to say that being here isn’t the bloody holiday you seem to think it is. I love Jamie so much but- but I’m so _bloody_ tired.” 

Draco looked down at Jamie. Their son’s angry flush had faded now and his tiny green-grey eyes had fluttered closed. It wouldn’t be too long until he was fast asleep. Draco made an effort to swallow his upset. Pansy had warned him about these petty arguments, how they would flair and then fade. “But keep talking,” Pans had urged Draco. “This is the biggest life change of your lives. It’s bound to feel difficult sometimes.” 

Sat beside him, Harry did look like he was finding new fatherhood difficult. He looked stricken by Draco’s words. He fiddled with his wand as he sat there, running it between his fingers. Draco knew that as the most obvious of Harry’s tells, used only on the rare occasions when his husband was anxious.

“I know you’re not on holiday,” Harry said, his voice a tad resentful. “Your life here, looking after him? I’m in fucking awe, Draco. Jamie? He’s like some bloody Potion recipe that I can’t brew, even though I follow the instructions to the letter.” Harry gazed down towards Jamie and Draco felt his heart clench at his husband’s obvious, raw love. They both had the same mop of dark hair; Draco knew they’d both look so alike when their son was older. “Whereas you cast your magic and make him stop crying. What do you think it feels like to be me, Draco? Jamie wants you all the time-”

“That’s not true,” Draco said. It really wasn’t. Even at six weeks old, Jamie loved Harry. Draco adored watching their son in the moments after Harry flooed home from work. He couldn’t peel his wide baby eyes from his other father. “You’re a brilliant dad-”

“A so-called brilliant dad who can’t give his son what he needs.” Harry made a small scoffing noise, which broke Draco a little. Harry had such ridiculously high expectations of himself. “I couldn’t help him two bloody minutes ago, could I? Jamie was sobbing and the only thing I could do was get you.”

Harry’s sea-glass green eyes were red rimmed; Draco could tell how painful this conversation was for his husband. 

Harry had been the one who’d been the most elated by the positive pregnancy test. He’d been the one who’d spun elaborate, detailed plans over the last nine months, warm fantasies of what their lives together would be like. It was Harry that had dragged the pair of them all over Diagon, looking for the perfect cot and baby clothes. 

And it had always been a point of pride for Potter, being great with children: first with Teddy, and then as the Weasley-Granger children’s entertaining uncle, always up for a laugh and a game of pick-up Quidditch. 

Draco had been the far more ambivalent partner, secretly unsure about the interloper who’d steadily grown within his magicked womb. Draco’s rush of love hadn’t happened until much later, not until he’d first held his babe in the safety of his arms. 

Reaching out with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Jamie, Draco knotted his fingers through Harry’s own. 

“Jamie loves you,” Draco said quietly. “We _both_ do. I promise you that Jamie doesn’t love you less; he just gets hungry. It’s simple pudding-love, Harry. Nothing more. Babies tummies aren’t much bigger than a gallon. They empty very quickly… And I knew that I was taking a risk choosing to shower before he woke up but I decided to anyway.” Draco squeezed Harry’s fingers and quirked him a small grin. “I meant what I said before. If Jamie is crying then you must come and get me. I know I was snappish before but I was- I _am_ tired. Our sleeping patterns are all over the place… And I’m hormonal too.” Draco huffed out a laugh. “Caught myself crying at the bloody Wireless again this morning.”

“ _Sad Songs for Romantic Witches?_ ” Harry replied, finding Draco’s eyes. There was a sliver of amusement in Harry’s open, honest face. “I think _I’ll_ cry if I ever have to hear that show again, lovely. Hands down it was the worst part of my paternity leave.” He sighed, moving their hands over to rest on Draco’s hip, only centimetres from their baby. “I’m sorry. Growing up without my parents… Well, it means a lot to me, this being a good parent lark. Being a good husband too. Nothing else in my life is as important as the pair of you.”

Draco felt the heat of Harry’s hand resting on his hip. There was a weight to it; a warm familiarity and Draco couldn’t deny that it felt good just to have the other wizard so close. Physical intimacy had played a huge part of Harry and his relationship since the beginning. 

“You are a good father,” Draco asserted, flicking his eyes over from Harry down to their son. Jamie’s suckle was powerful and Draco could feel the tiny pressure of suction working his nipple. It was odd to recall how painful the breastfeeding process had been in the beginning; he’d been in floods of tears and Harry hadn’t been far behind him. 

Draco had been terrified by the thought that he couldn’t sustain this new tiny life and, until his milk had come in three days after the birth, had been frantically trying to use a Muggle breast-pump. “We wanted the best for our child Harry love, and for us, that meant breastfeeding. If we’d chosen to make up a formula potion then you could have fed him too. Pansy warned me what I was getting into when I said I wanted to nurse exclusively but I do think it’s been worth it. Even though it _does_ take up every hour on Merlin’s green Earth-”

“Still worth it, even though I can’t really help you?”

“Yes,” Draco nodded. “Even though you can’t really help me. It’s worth it. I mean, look at Jamie. He’s thriving.”

Harry’s eyes left Draco and trailed over their son. Draco knew he was absolutely correct in his assertion. Their Magi-midwife had been full of compliments for Jamie at their last weigh-in appointment at St. Mungos. 

Jamie was gaining the right amount of weight and his magical signature test had been resoundingly positive. ‘Whatever regime you’ve set up certainly seems to be suiting him,’ she’d said. The young witch’s words had pleased Draco far more than he’d admitted aloud. 

“Still, I wish I could do more to support you,” Harry said, rubbing a small circle on Draco’s hip with his knuckle. His voice was ardent; rich with love. “You’ve done so bloody well, these last few weeks. Keeping him safe inside you for so many weeks, even though wizard pregnancies are notoriously difficult, and then his birth-”

“Not my finest hour-” Draco interrupted, blushing at the memory of some of his more undignified birthing positions. 

“Yes, your finest hour,” Harry disagreed kindly. “And since then you’ve been taking such good care of him, feeding him and loving him. I’d have been in pieces, love, but you’ve been an absolute legend. I’m supposed to be the brave one in this relationship but you’ve humbled me, Draco. Put me to utter shame. Just watching you nurse him, love. Merlin, but I’m besotted by the pair of you. I can hardly stop staring.” 

Draco’s blush deepened with Harry’s warm words. 

Harry leant his head over then and pressed a series of small kisses into the crook of Draco’s neck. He nuzzled the thin skin of Draco’s throat with his mouth and nose, an act that made Draco jump with its raw intimacy and affection. It was a surprise, but a welcome one. Harry’s stubbly chin was tickly, rough and so familiar. 

Harry’s fingers continued to caress Draco’s hip with a doting, steady touch. 

“It’s sexy too,” Harry whispered into his ear. Harry had moved infinitesimally closer and his words were warm puffs of breath. “Watching you nurse Jamie. I can hardly resist you, Draco. You’re glowing and gorgeous; you’ve never looked more alive. More arousing than you’ve ever been… I feel like a spotty bloody teenager when I’m beside you, lovely. Can hardly contain my reactions -”

“Merlin,” Draco managed, his cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. He averted his eyes from Potter’s dark gaze. “That beautiful head of yours must have taken one too many hexes this past three weeks. I shouldn’t think that I’m worthy of your adoration, Potter. I’m hardly at _Prophet_ -centrefold levels of sensational at this current point in time-”

Draco wasn’t usually one to reject Harry’s sexual advances. Normally, Draco knew he’d have revelled in Harry’s fervent words- while egging him on for more- but tonight he wasn’t entirely sure that he warranted that sort of attention. His husband was, of course, the epitome of honesty, but Draco couldn't help but believe that Harry was just trying to flatter him to make up for their tiff. 

After all, he _wasn’t_ sexy, was he? 

His belly was still squeezable; cushiony soft from where he’d carried Jamie. Draco knew he was nowhere near massive but, when you’d always been as skinny as he, the extra few pounds still stuck to his ribs felt like quite a lot. Plus, his chest was swollen up with Jamie’s milk. He doubted that Harry, a wizard whose pin-up crushes included some of the most muscular Beaters in the Quidditch League, could truly fancy that part of his anatomy.

“Stop doubting yourself,” Harry murmured, breaking Draco’s chain of thought. “I don’t need to be a bloody _Legilimens_ to to hear what you’re thinking, love. I’m not known for fibbing, Draco. Gryffindor, remember?” 

Harry moved in even closer and brushed a kiss against Draco’s jaw. _Salazar_. His beloved smelt so good; sweet like the Treacle Tart they’d eaten for dessert undercut with the musky scent of his skin. It was all terribly seductive and Draco felt a coil of desire roll up his spine. He wanted Harry, wanted him more than he’d realised. 

He’d been massive those last few weeks of pregnancy, waddling around with the circumference of a small planet. Working around his giant bump had made sex a tad difficult and even when they’d partaken in lovemaking, Draco had gotten tired easily. But now, the two men could be close once more. The thought of their heated bodies pressed together, Harry’s hard chest taut against his own, felt almost intoxicating…. 

No. Draco bit his lip, trying to switch off his arousal. He was getting carried away in the heat of Harry’s kisses. 

Draco knew he wasn’t enticing. He wasn’t alluring. He was chubby, he smelt like milk and he had nipples the size of every-flavour bloody beans. His husband was the literal bloody _Chosen One_. Harry got fan-mail every single day from nubile, attractive young wizards. 

When all that was on offer, Draco couldn’t truly believe that Harry wanted to go anywhere near his wrecked physique. Draco’s magicked reproductive system was still very much in-situ, too. Would his husband really want to go anywhere near where their baby had emerged into the world, only weeks before? 

“Yes. Gryffindor,” Draco repeated back to his husband. “Known for your chivalrous tendencies. You don’t need to butter me up, Potter. I’m quite aware of how I look. I had a baby less than two months ago-”

“ _My_ baby,” Harry said, tracing a finger over Draco’s jaw. “You had _my_ baby and you look sensational, love: nursing him, loving after him and keeping him safe-”

Harry’s words were disturbed by Jamie’s mewling cry. He pulled off Draco’s nipple with a wet, sucking noise. He pursed his tiny lips, and turned his head, telling Draco in no uncertain terms that it was time for his father to switch sides. 

Draco did so, dropping Harry’s hand in the process. His husband took the opportunity to trail his freed fingertips over Draco’s side which made his skin goose-bump and quiver. Harry’s touches really were magic. 

“Out with it,” Draco said decisively. “You Gryffindors are supposed to be plain-spoken as well. Stop dancing around the cauldron Harry.”

Harry’s cheeks reddened before he spoke. “Jamie’s six weeks old now,” Harry said, giving Draco a hopeful and adorably foolish look. “And the Magi-midwife said that everything should be healed by now. So I was wondering-”

“If we could have sex?” Draco finished for him. “I don’t know Harry. It’s not that I don’t want to but I’m not in the best condition right now. I was hoping to lose a little weight and get a little bit more toned…” Draco let his words drift off to nothing, his tone uncertain. The truth was far more than just self-consciousness though. 

Draco’s flawless physique had always been a point of pride, a touchstone in a world where he’d made so many mistakes in his twenty-four years. Harry had always gazed at him with such burning desire and he was terrified of losing that physical connection. Draco wanted Harry to see him as a lover; not just as the other parent of his son. 

Harry pouted at his answer, letting those clever fingertips of his wander down to brush over Draco’s belly. 

“I won’t pressure you, Draco. I’m not that kind of tosser. But you have to know how good you look? You just had a baby, love. Made a whole other human from just a tiny seed and birthed them all by yourself. You did all that and you still look brilliant. I don’t give a fig about how toned your bloody stomach is… I fucking love you Draco. Just the sight of you gets me hard and all I want is to make you feel good.”

Draco could barely believe the truth of Harry’s words. He looked down at Jamie. Their son was settling now, his eyelashes fluttering against a chubby cheek. It would be too long till his tiny tummy was filled and he drifted off to sleep. Even now Draco couldn’t quite believe that he was lucky enough to have a child and that he was theirs to love forever. 

“Is that why you sent me those lovely flowers today? Pansy was here. She said that you were after something but I denied it… Said that we don’t all have to have ulterior motives like her! Well it seems that the Sorting Hat got it wrong, Potter! You should have been in Slytherin with that little trick. I didn’t realise they were a lure to get me into bed!”

Harry looked aghast at the connection that Draco had made. He furrowed his brows behind his thin wire frames and shook his head. 

“That’s not what they were about at all,” Harry said. “The flowers were Hermione’s idea. She reminded me just how hard it is to stay at home with a new baby… Said that it’s the most wonderful and the hardest time in a parent's life. That wasn’t what I was thinking, Draco love. I swear to Merlin.”

“I loved those flowers,” Draco said, a little unwilling to let go of his hurt. “And I loved what you wrote on the card.” 

Father had always been quick to buy his mum flowers when he’d been growing up and Draco had come to think of them as a manipulative and cheap trick. Harry had insisted on buying them for him though- _‘beautiful blooms for a beautiful man’_ \- and slowly, over the months and years of their relationship, Draco had softened in his attitude towards the gift. Now he was suspicious of Harry’s motivations once more. “When you said that you couldn't believe how blessed you were to have Jamie and me in your life? How you never dreamt that you’d ever been this happy? Those words made me cry Harry!”

“That wasn’t my intention,” Harry replied, his voice immediately full of concern. “I’m not a wordy, clever chap like you… I meant every word. I’m just so thankful to have you for a husband and as the other dad for our baby. When I was a kid, locked in that fucking cupboard. The idea that someone could want me enough to share their lives and make a family with me. Well. That was a bigger fantasy than having bloody magic.”

Guilt flooded through Draco. Harry was scrupulously, fundamentally honest. It was part of his nature. He was entirely too bloody Gryffindor for that kind of trick. Draco knew deep down that Harry hadn’t sent those flowers to try and trick him into sex. 

“I’m sorry,” Draco murmured, stroking a fingertip through Jamie’s shock of dark hair. The Magi-midwife had said that their son’s hair would fall out within a few months but Draco knew that wouldn’t ever happen. Jamie was all Harry and was destined to have his stubborn hair too. “I know you’d never try and manipulate me like that. My hormones are still all over place. It’s not that I don’t want to be intimate… It’s- It’s only been a few weeks and I just don’t quite feel like myself yet.”

“Well, I think you look beautiful,” Harry said. “And I’ll not pressure you Draco. I love you too much for that… All I know is that you look as good as you ever have. Whenever you’re ready then I’ll be too.”

Draco could tell that Jamie was finally asleep. His little body was a careful, subtle weight and the baby had stopped fidgeting. His cherubic cheeks were warm against Draco’s skin. His lips still suckled but that was only Jamie’s enjoying a dream feed. Their little boy was ready to be placed in his levitating cot beside their bed. Draco popped his little finger into the side of Jamie’s mouth and released his latch. 

He placed Jamie into his bed with practised care. He was too little for blankets yet, so Draco gave his wand a quick twist, setting the temperature spell so that their baby wouldn’t be too warm. Jamie gave a little yawn as he nuzzled into the bedding that they’d charmed to be soft and comfortable. 

“He’s fast off,” Draco whispered to Harry. Even though he still felt terribly nervous, Harry’s words had snaked their delicate way into his mind. Touch was such a comfort and a balm. Draco knew that better than anybody. 

Touch had sent their beautiful son to sleep and now another part of Draco’s life needed his attention. He wasn’t only a dad; he was a husband as well. Harry’s needs mattered too. “What was it that you wrote on that card?” Draco asked, the smallest hint of a smirk crossing his features. “That I’m the shiniest star in the sky? It was the most romantic thing that I think that I’ve ever read.” 

Harry was a wonderful Father to Jamie. Even with all the stresses and strains that came with life as a Deputy Lead Auror at the Ministry, Harry made time to firecall home as often as he could. That bunch of flowers hadn’t been the first little gift, either. Harry had sent a slice of Elven Cheesecake and Honeydukes toffees too. Harry wasn’t doing the same level of overtime either. As often as possible, Harry would floo into their Living Room when six o’clock rolled around each evening. There was very little that Harry could do to help with Jamie’s night feeds but he’d often get up and sit beside Draco as he nursed, keeping him company and helping him to keep awake. He would magick over a glass of water whenever one was required. 

Draco loved Harry, and truth be told he’d never really been able to resist him. His husband radiated goodness and Harry was looking at him with such soft, desirous eyes. Draco shivered, feeling the last of his complaints Disapparate into nothingness. 

Harry had said that he was willing to wait but if their touches were careful as his words, then perhaps he didn’t want to. He turned away from the cot and moved to the foot of their bed, crawling quietly over soft quilt so that he could kiss Harry’s lips. They were every bit as pliable and delicious as ever and Draco sighed into the contact, opening his mouth to deepen their kisses. His hands snaked up the hard muscles of Harry’s arms and over broad shoulders until they were knitted in Harry’s messy knot of hair. 

It all felt so _good_ ; felt so familiar and so right and then he was tugging off Harry’s tee shirt. “What’s this?” Harry asked, his voice a quiet rumble of lust. “I didn’t think that you were ready for this yet?”

Draco smiled. “I’m a Malfoy,” he whispered in reply. “We’re changeable, capricious creatures.” Harry raised an eyebrow behind his lenses and then the pair of wizards began to kiss one more and, in an instant, Draco was overtaken by desire. Harry and he had always had an exquisite, intense connection and their few weeks apart built an extra frisson of want into their encounter. “And I want this. I’ve missed you, Potter. Missed _us_.”

The next few moments were frenetic with quiet sighs and fervid kisses. Jamie, only so recently asleep was only metres from where both wizards embraced and neither man wanted to wake him. Harry vanished his own and Draco’s clothes with wandless magic and then Draco’s worries flew from his mind. Their bellies and chests brushed against one another, Harry’s scars and tattoos even more familiar than his own. 

The two wizards were truly lovers, connected in their minds and in their skin. Draco felt the tug of their bonding magic around his heart as they embraced; their bodies one long line of heat to the very tips of their toes. “My gorgeous, beautiful husband,” Harry murmured, breaking their kiss. “I’m besotted by you.”

Harry’s eyes were wide, dark with lust and his body as reactive to Draco’s as it had been before Jamie’s birth. Any coyness that might have remained disappeared as Potter _Accio’d_ lube and reached down to explore between Draco’s legs. 

The spark of arousal was fierce and Draco undulated his hips, pushing himself down onto Harry’s with a gasp that he had to smother with a fist. He wasn’t just a Father or a carer. Draco felt like a man, a husband and a lover too.

Draco hissed with annoyance at the sudden emptiness when Harry withdrew his fingers. He opened perplexed eyes to find Harry sat between his legs. Potter’s brow was furrowed and Draco watched as his husband exhaled slowly. “We can’t do this, love,” Harry said, forestalling Draco’s question. “We don’t have a condom.”

This was new information and Draco’s tired, emotional brain struggled to catch up for a moment. “What do you mean, a condom? We haven’t used one of those for years. Not since I began using contraceptive potions.” Draco’s mind caught up with his words then and the coil of disappointment was powerful enough to feel painful. “Which I _stopped_ for fertility potions-”

“And you can’t begin taking again until your reproductive system reverts back to it’s pre-pregnancy form,” Harry cut in, his expression resigned. “It doesn’t matter Draco love. I’ll go to the Apothecary tomorrow and us get a packet.” He gave Draco a small smile. “Until then sweetheart, I still intend to make you feel exactly as good as you deserve.”

Draco didn’t want that. A hurried orgasm gifted by his beloved would be lovely, of course, but his every nerve ending was tingling with Harry’s touches. 

The sight of his husband’s excited heavy cock, bobbing delightfully in front of his body made Draco quiver with want. He sat up, a sly thought spilling out of his mouth before he’d had the chance to think about the ramifications. “We don’t need a condom,” Draco said artfully, stroking a finger over Harry’s wrist. “I’m breastfeeding, remember? That means I can’t get pregnant right now. That’s what Pans told me! It’s apparently fail safe.”

The look that Harry gifted Draco was almost Slytherin in its lasciviousness. Draco could see that his husband was more than overjoyed with that titbit of knowledge. “Really?” he asked, the enthusiasm devious on his handsome face. “That’s incredibly good to know.”

“Really,” Draco agreed, laying down on his back and spreading his legs a little wider. “But it’s been a few weeks, so be gentle with me, lovely. _Oh!_ ” Draco made a small whine as Harry pushed his knees upwards and shuffled his body forward, lining up his erection with Draco’s fluttering entrance. “Merlin but I’ve missed you so much,” he gasped out, feeling the first delicious stretch as Harry nudged carefully inside. Why had he dreaded this? Harry had always been the very epitome of a conscientious lover and the feel of his beloved’s cock brushing his prostate was wonderful. 

Harry didn’t need to say a word. The gasps and sighs that he made told Draco everything that he needed to know. A few extra pounds and a few silvery stretchmarks hadn’t made one atom of difference to the degree of his husband’s desire. 

Draco felt himself melt into their lovemaking as Harry bottomed out, filling him to the brim. Potter’s lovemaking was truly enchanting. 

**Six short weeks later…**

“Of course I fucking blame you!” Draco yelled. A mug that had been sat on the table jumped into the air with the fit of his temper and smashed into a dozen pieces. That was one of the set that Mother had gifted them when they’d got married. A Malfoy family heirloom. He’d _Reparo_ it later but right now he was seething. He was fucking pregnant. Again. 

It was entirely Potter’s fault. That wizard was far too irresistible, his words far too sweet and his sperm far too potent. 

“Draco, I don’t understand why you’re so angry about this” Harry said, his voice ridiculously calm. Draco raged at the sound. The four-eyed sod might as well be talking about their dinner plans with the Granger-bloody-Weasleys. Draco was pregnant, Jamie was three months old and Harry Potter was being far too reasonable about the whole awful situation. 

“Oh, I had to go and marry the most powerful fucking wizard of his generation, didn’t I?” Draco hissed. “Mother warned me that it’d be like this. It’s always the same with you, Potter: everything bigger, better, faster and bloody _more_ and it seems that applies to your sperm too! Everything about you is more powerful. Only you could have impregnated me on your first attempt, Harry!”

“Well, I agree I was there,” Harry agreed, using a consolatory tone. Draco wondered if it were the same vice that his husband used to placate the more unhinged criminals that he arrested, “but so were you. I don’t remember trying to dissuade me out of going in bareback, love. In fact-”

“In fact Pansy’s going to be getting a bloody Howler tomorrow! Maybe two!” Draco gritted out. “The Magi-midwife informed me today that she was peddling a bunch of old witches tales!” Draco slumped back down into the kitchen chair, feeling some of the fight leave his body as he repeated everything he’d been told earlier. “Seems that even witches can get pregnant while they’re nursing,” Draco said glumly, feeling his face glow with embarrassment. “It’s not really much protection at all. If you don’t use a potion or a condom then you’re chancing a baby.”

“What I don’t understand is how this baby got conceived at all,” Harry said, walking over to where Draco was sat trembling. “You had to take a big course of fertility potions before your reproductive system was ever strong enough to carry Jamie-”

“And it seems that still is,” Draco wept. Hot tears sprang to the edges of his eyes and he didn’t make any attempt to wipe them away. “The Magi-midwife seemed bloody impressed with me! _Merlin_. You know what she said Potter? Said that I’m a prime candidate for wizard pregnancy. A perfect specimen! Like that’s my only worth to the world or-”

Harry’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and Draco felt his whole body unravel into a flood of shock and unhappiness. He was bloody pregnant again and suddenly all his plans for the next few years were slipping away faster than grains of sand through a timer. 

He’d had not one clue that he was expecting when he’d flooed into the Medi-midwife’s office that morning. It had been a routine clinic, nothing to lose sleep over or worry about and Draco had padded happily into her office before getting himself comfortable on the bed. This was just a trifle that he’d had to endure many times. In five minutes Draco had thought that he’d have a prescription for the contraceptive potion and he’d be able to go on his merry way and enjoy the rest of his day. 

Draco had watched as the Magi-midwife had transfigured the end of the bed into stirrups and he’d popped his legs up into them for his internal examination.

“Mmm,” she’d said after only a moment. “I’m a little surprised that your reproductive channel hasn’t reverted back yet, Mr. Malfoy. I would have expected that to have occurred by now… That’s a little unusual in wizarding pregnancies. All the fertility magic ought to have left your system at least five weeks ago.”

Five minutes later and Draco had held two positive pregnancy tests in his hand and was sat, listening to the Magi-midwife explain why condoms were every wizard’s best-friend. It felt a little like rushing to bolt the gate once the Hippogriff had bolted but he was too mired in shock and fright to say a word. 

The appointment had felt surreal: the very antithesis of discovering that he was pregnant with Jamie less than a year before. Harry and he had cried and danced then and been speechless with joy. This time all Draco felt was a deep, all-encompassing feeling of being somehow robbed. 

Draco sobbed into the warmth of Harry’s jumper. His husband smelt as lovely as always, like the lavender balm that he used after shaving and the Sleekeezies hair lotion that didn’t do a thing to tame his hair. In any normal circumstances, Draco would have been comforted. Wrapped in Harry’s arms was the safest place in his world. 

Today though, nowhere felt safe. His body had betrayed him and worse, it had betrayed Jamie too. He should have been thinking of his baby, sleeping soundly in his cot, not letting his head get turned by treacherous hormones. 

“Are you going to hex me Draco,” Harry asked, his tone cautious and measured, “if I said that this is all a _little_ bit amazing?” Harry kept his arms wrapped carefully around Draco’s shoulders, so steady and stable and Draco felt his whole body begin to shake. “I mean, we wanted a second baby didn’t we? A brother or sister for Jamie? We’re both only children and we didn’t want that for our kids… And it was so hard getting pregnant the first time? _Gods._ All those potions and trips to St. Mungos.” Harry tried to scoot his hand around to cup Draco’s belly. “This one here is a little miracle. A little surprise to add to our family.”

Draco couldn’t abide the idea of Harry touching his belly. Bloody Potter was such a Gryffindor; always so quick to get on board when disaster happened and always so quick to see the bright side of everything. He was still such a bloody saviour. 

Draco took a step backwards, forcibly breaking their embrace and gave his husband his best fiery, haughty glance, though Draco knew it didn’t work very well when you were crying. 

Harry loved children more than anything; his expression had gone all soft and moony at the idea of a second Potter-Malfoy baby and Draco thought he might faint. 

“A little _miracle?_ ” he managed, shaking his head. “A little _surprise?_ Listen to yourself, Harry! Listen to the words dripping out of that heroic bloody mouth of yours! I know that you want a whole bloody Quidditch team running around under your feet but then you don’t have to carry them! You don’t have to sweat and waddle and feel like you could sleep for an entire sodding month. You don’t have to give birth! You’ve dropped off a load of your magic fucking spunk and your job is _done_. Mine’s only just begun.”

Harry looked heartbroken at that and Draco felt wobbly and breathless. Hard, ugly words like that so rarely left his mouth any more, so whenever they did he felt shocked with himself. 

“I can see you’re upset,” Harry said, holding both two palms in a gesture of pacifism, “but Jamie is a blessing, Draco. We made a lovely, happy baby who is the light of our lives. Surely it’s better to have that second baby now, while you’re just twenty-four? I’m just- I don’t know Draco! This doesn’t seem like the end of the world that you’re making it out to be.”

Harry’s reply words were like a red rag to a werewolf. Draco was glad that he didn’t have his wand anywhere close to his fingers. A Jelly-Legs Hex didn’t seem like too inappropriate a punishment for Harry right at that moment. Draco was only twenty-four and he was going to have another babe in his arms before his son’s first birthday. If Potter had wanted a broodmare then he should have married Ron-sodding-Weasley. 

“I had plans,” Draco cried. “I was going to go back to work a couple of days a week at the gallery with Pansy. Maybe even take on a couple of commissions after Jamie weaned. But now I- now I’ll...”

Draco rushed over to the sink. The croissant that he’d managed to eat for his lunch was suddenly sitting like a rock in his belly. He was pregnant and Draco felt the acid rise up in his throat. Morning sickness would plague his days for weeks to come, just like it had with Jamie and even the strongest potions wouldn’t come close to touching it. 

There weren't going to be any portrait commissions. He’d be too round to get close to the canvas and too sluggish to stand for anywhere near long enough. There weren't going to be any afternoons gossiping with Pans. Draco had only just begun to feel like himself again and now the next few years had been snatched from his grasp. He was pregnant and he’d never felt more out of control in all the years of his existence. 

“Draco,” Harry said. Draco watched as his husband vanished the remains of his lunch from the sink with a flick of his wand. “You need to calm down love. Getting het up like this isn’t good for either of you. You sit back down,” Harry continued, guiding Draco back to the kitchen table with a light hand on his back. “I’ll make you a mint tea.”

Harry fussed with the kettle and Draco sulked in silence. He’d have to tell Mother of course. All her Pureblood friends would be horrified at his blatant, ripe fecundity but she’d not give a phoenix feather for their opinions. She doted on Jamie and Mother would love this next baby just as much. 

Potter placed a steaming mug in front of Draco after a few minutes had passed and sat down across the table. “Talk to me,” Harry said, twisting his own mug around in his hand. “All this panic. I don’t understand it Draco. Lots of our friends already have two children. ‘Mione and Ron. Theo and Pans… And we both agreed before you ever began the fertility potions that we didn’t want Jamie to be like us. We didn’t want him to be an only child.”

Draco picked up his mug of tea but the lump in his throat was too painful to take a sip. His tiny baby. Draco had firecalled his Mother, saying that he’d be a little late to pick him up but Harry and him would need to collect him from the Manor soon.

At the thought of his soft greeny-grey eyes and his downy hair Draco had to swallow a sob. “Jamie’s not a _child_ ,” Draco managed, feeling his voice break a little on the last word. “Jamie is our baby! We haven’t even given him a chance to be the centre of our world, Potter! We were supposed to coo over his fingernails and dress him for Halloween! We were supposed to argue over whether he said dada or papa for his first word!”

Harry looked confused at Draco’s words. He took a swallow of his tea before he spoke. “Of course Jamie is our baby,” Harry said. “He’s the sun in our universe. Why wouldn’t we marvel over his first word or dress him up for Halloween? You’re not making sense, love.”

Draco shook his head in frustration. “I wanted those memories to be perfect,” Draco uttered, knowing as he said them that Harry was right. He wasn’t really making sense but that didn’t stop him from feeling desolate. “I didn’t _want_ to be fat and exhausted and marooned on the bloody settee when he takes his first step! I wanted him to sleep on my lap. Now I won’t even have room to do that! The Magi-midwife wasn’t even sure that I’d be able to carry on nursing him past the second trimester either.” He let out a cough that turned into a messy sob. “My bloody son, drinking Muggle formula! I can’t bear the idea Potter. I’m an _awful_ \- I’m an awful bloody parent.”

Harry was up on his feet in moments, embracing Draco and carding fingers through his sweaty hair. 

Draco could barely breathe. His heart was painful and he felt like his lungs were being squeezed of all their oxygen. He’d had panic attacks before, of course, but he couldn’t remember an attack as acute as this one. Jamie and his new baby were going to be in the same wizarding preschool. Fuck, but they’d be in the same year at Hogwarts too. 

Jamie wouldn’t ever have anything to call his own. The whole of magical Britain could do basic arithmetic too. They’d all be laughing at the pair of them, smirking as Draco passed by on Diagon Alley pushing a double buggy. They’d all know what their precious Chosen One was doing to Draco a spare few weeks after he’d given birth. 

“Always so dramatic,” Harry said, his voice soft and soothing. “There isn’t anything wrong with using a bit of formula, Draco love! Hermione used it with Rose, and if it’s good enough for the Deputy Minister’s daughter then it’s good enough for Jamie. Don’t be such a ruddy great snob, Malfoy.” Harry leant over and kissed the top of Draco’s head. “And love isn’t some rare bloody commodity. It isn’t unicorn horn or bat wings or some other such nonsense!” He rubbed Draco’s back, reassuring in the way that only Harry was capable of. “And all those memories will be better for you being pregnant, Draco. They'll be better because you’ll have both your children with you; one in your arms and the other safe under your heart. Jamie will love his sibling too. He’ll never remember a time when they weren't beside him.” 

Draco felt the ripples of his husband’s strong magic roll over his skin. He could feel the warmth and intent behind the embrace, feel the depth of Harry’s true love. But what if this pregnancy was too much for even Harry’s devotion though? Draco already had a bit of a bump going on. He’d thought it was a bit of leftover from Jamie but it seemed that this belly was baby rather than bloat. 

“I’m going to show much quicker this time,” Draco warned, pulling out from the hug and narrowing his eyes in Harry’s direction. “And my body won’t bounce back as quickly either. Pansy moaned for months after Athena was born. Says her hips have never been quite the same!” Draco pouted, giving Harry a hurt look. “What if you succumb to the temptation of one of those flirtatious fans of yours? They’ll be a sight more attractive that I’ll be-”

“Fuck them,” Harry said with a growl. “You’re still the sexiest thing that I’ve ever seen and you being pregnant? Well that just bloody intensifies how sodding perfect you are. You’re growing my baby, Draco. There’s nothing on the Earth that’s sexier than that.” Harry placed his finger under Draco’s chin and tipped back his head, before crouching down and crowding in close. Draco felt light-headed at Harry’s proximity. He was gorgeous. “And don’t be so bloody shallow either. My bond with you was never dependant on you keeping a trim waist, Malfoy! I love your brain and your talent. I love your snarky moods and how you love with your whole heart. I’m in this for life Draco.”

The emotional impact of Harry’s words left Draco’s head spinning. He heard them clearly, heard the truth and the commitment and the honest-to-Godric true love that they were lucky enough to share. 

Harry was still the only person in Draco’s life that was able to tether him, the only person truly able to make him see what really mattered. He looked up to see the hurt in Harry’s green eyes and felt a twist of guilt in his belly. Harry wouldn’t ever betray him; capacity for a betrayal like that simply wasn’t part of Potter’s nature. Draco pulled his husband close and threw his arms around his steady, strong torso. Harry felt like the only part of Draco’s life that wasn’t built on shifting sands. 

“I know you’d never hurt us,” Draco managed. “I’m just- I feel like my whole life’s been overturned. Everything that I took for granted… It’s all going to have to change. I’m running to catch up Harry. And I love Jamie so much, Potter. More than I ever thought I would when I was pregnant. More than I believed I was capable of… I don’t know how that’ll work with two children? I’m sorry I-”

“Hush,” Harry said, taking Draco’s weight and holding him tight. “You don’t have to think about any of that yet. All that estrogen flooding through you? All those extra hormones are bound to have an effect on your mood, too… I understand, I really do. I know that you weren't always certain during Jamie’s pregnancy either. You’re allowed to have doubts and allowed to feel anxious Draco. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now. But whatever changes the next few months and years then you can be certain of one thing. I’ll be here beside you. I _love_ you, Malfoy. I can promise you that much.”

“I’m just frightened,” Draco replied, with a voice that was soft and shaky. “I don’t know how we’re going to manage two babies-”

“And neither do I!” Harry cut in, nuzzling Draco’s hair affectionately. “But we’ll face every day together, a minute at a time, just like we have since the day you agreed to our first date. But you know that I can’t lie Draco and I’m already so excited about our new baby! How could I _not_ be? They’re a part of you Draco. The love of my life! A little bit of both of us mixed together. That, for me, is more powerful magic that anything I’ve seen produced from any spell book.”

Draco snorted sadly, used to his husband's doting hyperbole. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel comforted. Potter had said that very same thing when he’d fallen with Jamie but he supposed that didn’t make it any less true. A minute at a time. He could manage that. 

He knotted his fingers though Harry’s own and moved them to the small roundness that sat proud beneath his belly button. Even if the doubts and the anxieties still clamoured for his attention, Draco could take solace in Harry’s unbending love. He took a deep breath and the rawness of his panic slide away. “I hope that this one has my hair,” Draco said quietly. “Merlin forbid that I have to live with three do-gooding short-sighted Gryffindors with untameable hair for the rest of my days. Potter genes are too bloody powerful to be borne.”

Harry liked Draco’s comment. He laughed and Draco felt his husband’s wide hand stroke a circle over his belly, tender and protective. “I’d like that too,” Potter said. “I’d like a little girl this time, with your blond hair and your secret kind heart. I want to spoil her rotten and I watch her and Jamie play together. He’s going to love her, Draco. He’s never going to remember a time when she didn’t exist.”

Draco closed his eyes and let Harry’s words wash over him. They’d have to leave in a few minutes, floo to the Manor and collect Jamie from his Grandmother’s arms. Harry and he made a beautiful, cheerful baby the first time around and Draco hoped there was no reason they wouldn’t once again. He wasn’t under any illusions though. The next few months and years weren't going to be the easiest of his life. 

Two babies under one were going to be a massive challenge and he didn’t doubt that there would be dark days where he struggled to cope. But Draco knew one thing for certain though. He had Harry beside him, supportive, loving and kind. They completed each other.

Together they could achieve anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xxxx
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please show the author your appreciation in a comment and by leaving kudos below. ♥
> 
> This story is part of the on-going and anonymous H/D Mpreg fest. The author will be revealed June 21st.


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